


The Friends We Choose to Keep

by R_S_B



Category: The Expanse (TV)
Genre: F/M, Infidelity, Smut, because Chrisjen deserves to be worshipped like the queen she is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-17
Updated: 2018-04-17
Packaged: 2019-04-24 01:09:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14344800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/R_S_B/pseuds/R_S_B
Summary: "This is not a date.""It's not?"Chrisjen finds some comfort and distraction in an old friend.





	The Friends We Choose to Keep

**Author's Note:**

> Set during Paradigm Shift. 
> 
> After I rewatched Chrisjen and Iturbi's scene, I just knew I had to do this. It seemed to me like the most reasonable reading of the scene isn't that they merely dated at some point in the past, but that she had actually cheated on her husband with him. And he so obviously wants to worship Chrisjen they way she deserves to be worshipped. I can't deny her that. XD

“So, how is Arjun?”

The restaurant was elegant, lavishly adorned, and private, not unlike the woman seated across the table.

“He's fine,” she demurred.

Chrisjen seemed, if anything, to have gotten even more beautiful in the years since he’d last seen her. Her dress was elaborately embroidered, clearly a one-of-a-kind piece, drawing the eyes to her exposed collarbone. Her dark hair tumbled effortlessly over one shoulder.

Michael poured wine for both of them and pressed a little harder. “I hear he's been away, on Luna.” He paused just long enough to leave an implication. “For quite some time.”

Chrisjen knew exactly what he was thinking. “This is _not_ a date.”

“It's not?” he teased.

“Those days are gone,’ she insisted.

Michael chuckled. “Don't be cross with me for trying.”

Chrisjen gave him an understanding smile - it certainly wouldn’t have been the first time the two had violated Chrisjen’s wedding vows together, and on a few occasions his own, although he and his wife had now been divorced for a number of years. But her face quickly turned serious. “I asked you to that meeting to hear your opinion. You barely said a word.”

Someone who didn't know Chrisjen Avasarala well might have been made defensive by her words, but Michael knew better than to take it personally. “In that room, my opinion would have only made me less popular than I already am.”

“You have a different theory about Eros?”

“Different, yeah. More like radical.”

Her curiosity was piqued. “This is not a time to keep these things to yourself.”

“The problem with Colonel Janus, as a scientist - I mean, his personality disorders are obvious - but his _problem_ is that he lacks imagination.”

“It's true,” Chrisjen admitted hesitantly.

“He can only conceive the world in terms of things he's already seen.”

“His job is to explain science to politicians,” Chrisjen told him. “In that regard, it's a useful skill.”

“But it's of no use here,” he insisted. “Eros Station was under quarantine, the result of a mysterious bio-weapon unleashed by Mars, which Mars believes was unleashed by us, which we did not--” he interrupted himself. “Did we?”

“We did not,” Chrisjen assured him.

“Ah, I never doubted that for a moment.” Michael’s teasing tone clearly indicated just how much trust he had in the official UN line. “Suddenly,” he continued, quickly returning to the topic at hand, “Eros - the entire asteroid - moves in a way that practically defies every single known law of physics. Now, Janus thinks that means there's a new Martian weapon, some staggering breakthrough on an incredible scale of a technology they've been pursuing utterly unsuccessfully for years. But ask yourself this question: does it make any sense at all that Mars would want to test their ground-breaking technology in a bio-hazard zone, that they themselves created?”

“I suppose not,” Chrisjen responded thoughtfully.

“So what if this bio-weapon isn't a bio-weapon after all? What if it is responsible in some way we can't yet fully understand, for Eros moving? I believe Eros was infected by an entirely new order of technology, something from somewhere else, somewhere beyond the reach of our species.” He paused. “I believe the Eros incident was our first contact with alien life.”

When he finished, Chrisjen paused, the repercussions of his words slowly sinking in. “I have a file,” she began, “with 900 pages of analysis, and contingency plans for war with Mars, including 14 different scenarios about what to do if they develop an unexpected new technology. My file for what to do if an advanced alien species comes calling? It's three pages long, and it begins with, ‘Step one, find God.’”

Michael was undeterred. “I _need_ to get to Venus. You can pull the strings and get me on that ship. I will be your eyes and your ears, I'll be your own private back channel to everything we find, unfiltered by Janus and Errinwright. Please, let me prove I'm right.”

He could see the gears moving in her head, or maybe it was just her letting him hang for the fun of it - he wouldn't put it past her. But she’d agreed. She eqivacated, telling him she would do what she could, but he had no doubt she'd be able to make it happen. They’d confirm details in the morning after she’d made arrangements, and the mission would begin in five days.

The two made small talk as they left their private dining room, and Chrisjen hesitated by the door. “I have an apartment across the street. If you’d like to come up for a nightcap.”

He grinned at her. “I thought this wasn’t a date.”

“It’s not. But I would be _very_ disappointed if I missed an opportunity to catch up with an old friend.”

He smiled broadly. “Well, I would _hate_ to disappoint you, madam.”

He held out his arm with a smile, and she gladly took it.

The night air in New York was chilly, and she pulled her shawl around her more tightly as they stepped outside. The thin fabric didn’t look like it did much against the wind, and Michael took the opportunity to put an arm around her as they crossed the street. It wasn’t long before they stepped into the lobby of her apartment building, where it was pleasantly warm. He didn’t immediately move his arm from her waist, so Chrisjen stepped forward just enough to tell him to drop his hand. She nodded at the doorman at the desk and they walked together to the elevator. He kept finding excuses to touch her arm, as they entered the elevator he pressed gently at the small of her back. But he knew better than to push his luck _too_ far.

At least not in public.

Her apartment was on the top floor, with its own security.  The guard nodded at her politely. “Madam Undersecretary.”

Chrisjen inclined her head. “Samir.”

She led Michael to her door, pressing her hand to the keypad to open the locking mechanism. She stepped back and motioned him inside. The apartment was modestly sized, but elegantly appointed.  There were floor to ceiling windows along the outside wall, providing a dramatic view of the skyline. Michael walked towards it, past the kitchen and through the living room, leaning a forearm on the glass and gazing out. The sun was nearly set, and there was some pink still shimmering near the horizon. “This is beautiful. I mean, it’s not as big as that apartment you had in Mumbai, when you were the district governor. But the view certainly is nicer.”

He risked a quick glance at Chrisjen behind him. She didn’t respond but he saw something in her eyes that told him she remembered it too.

Arjun and the kids had been away visiting family… He’d been in town for a conference… and one thing had led to another. He’d fucked her hard against the wall of that old apartment.

“Drink?”  She gestured towards the kitchen and he turned, shoving his hands in his pockets and following her gaze.

“Sure. A beer would be great.”

Chrisjen smiled. “Well, I don’t have any of that dreadful piss you used to drink, so don't get excited,” she told him as she walked to the fridge. “But I’ve got some lager from Luna that Arjun has become fond of.”

Michael’s discomfort at the mention of Chrisjen’s husband only showed for a second. Of course he felt a little guilty about Arjun every time something happened. But it had never been quite enough to stop them in the past and he didn't anticipate that changing now. He'd made his interest clear tonight; the ball was in Chrisjen’s court now. He cleared his throat and smiled. “I’d love to try one.” Chrisjen smiled.

She pulled out a bottle of the Luna lager for him and poured herself a glass of wine. She carried both to the coffee table and gestured for Michael to sit down. Straightening, she stepped back. “If you’ll excuse me, I’d like to change into something more comfortable.”  

Michael leaned back, unbuttoning the top button of his shirt and stretching his arms over the back of the sofa. “Of course.”

He sipped on his beer as he waited.

When he saw her return, he coughed and sat up a little straighter, tugging a little at the collar of his shirt. He wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting her to change into - Chrisjen was nothing if not always supremely put together, he couldn't imagine her _casual_ \- but this was not it. She was barefoot, wearing nothing but a silk robe in a deep burgundy. His eyes were glued to her body, the elegant drape of silk over her breasts, her hips, and Chrisjen smiled genially and sat down in the chair next to him. She plucked the glass of wine from the table and held it out. “To old friends.”

Michael smiled and tapped it with his beer.  “To old friends,” he agreed. Finally tearing his gaze away from her, he took a long swallow of beer.

She crossed her legs and sat back. “So. How are the girls?”

“In high school, if you can believe it.”

“Impossible,” Chrisjen laughed.

Michael chuckled. “They are doing great. Sophie is applying to university now.”

“That's wonderful.” She took another sip of wine. “Does she know what she wants to study?”

Michael gave her his most self-deprecating smile. “Would you believe she doesn't want to follow in her old man's footsteps?”

Chrisjen laughed. “I'm not sure I would have believed you if you'd told me she did.” Michael sipped on his beer and chuckled. “So, science isn't her cup of tea?”

He took his head. “Well, right now she wants to be a _writer_ , which I've been trying to dissuade, but so far no luck.”

Chrisjen snorted. “ _Children_.”  She took a sip of wine and stared out the window for a long moment, then her mask slipped. “What world are we leaving them with?” she whispered.

“Jesus, Chrisjen.”

She looked at him sharply. “What?”

“Usually it takes you much longer before you get moody and contemplative.”

Chrisjen glared, but it didn’t last. “I’m worried. Everything is different now. All the rules have changed and I’m scrambling to figure them out. Hell, I don’t even know what game we are playing anymore.”

Michael set his beer down on the table and reached out to squeeze her knee. “Well, I don’t think there’s anything you can do about that tonight. But in the meantime… maybe there are… other things I can help you with.” His eyes flickered over Chrisjen’s form and he slid his hand a little further up her thigh.

Chrisjen smirked at him, and it was like her doubt and apprehension had never been there. Her hands smoothed the silk robe she was wearing, then she stood up. “Maybe you are right.” She climbed into his lap. “I suppose I can imagine a few things you could help me with.” Then she leaned in close and pressed her lips briefly to his.

He chuckled and pulled her close, one hand on her thigh and the other curling around her neck. Their mouths came together again and a pleased noise rumbled in his chest. They kissed eagerly, finally freed of the pretense of propriety. She tasted of wine and lipstick and she smelled of jasmine. He moved to her throat, kissing his way down, then biting and sucking hungrily just above her collarbone. She moaned low in her throat and his cock twitched.

“Fuck, Michael,” she muttered. “Not _there_. Someone will see it.”

He groaned and returned regretfully to her mouth, further smudging her lipstick. “Better?”

“It would be _better_ if you were licking my cunt.”

He groaned, hand tightening on her thigh, and pants tightening around his erection. “But what fun would it be if we skipped straight to the good part?”

Chrisjen’s hands moved up his broad chest, making the hairs on his arms stand on end. Her lips curled into a smile and she cradled his face in her hands. “Hmm. I have to disagree. Now. We’re going to the bedroom.”

He nodded in agreement, capitulating immediately. For all his teasing he could never say “no” to Chrisjen Avasarala.

He was putty in her well-manicured hands.

She was on her feet and and moving to the bedroom without hesitation, leaving Michael on the couch, scrambling to find his footing as he adjusted his pants. He trailed after her, entering the bedroom in time to see her robe drop from her shoulders, pooling at her feet. He was saddened he wouldn't have the opportunity to remove the garment himself, but the thought was fleeting, quickly replaced by the increasingly desperate need to touch her bare skin.

She climbed into bed, settling herself against the pillows and smiling up at him. She spread her legs and Michael paused at the foot of the bed, struggling to get rid of his clothes. He discarded his shirt and jacket on the floor first, then unbuckled his pants and shoved them down, kicking them off his ankles and climbing in after her.

He knew what she wanted and he gave it to her, burying his head between her thighs and using his tongue to lavish her with attention. Her heel dug into his back, but he didn't mind. Not when her hand was in his hair and her moans were in his ears, spurring him on. His dick ached and he longed to bury it inside her but he didn’t want to stop what he was doing yet - every low moan, every breathless gasp, every hitch in her breath thrilled him, and he never wanted it to end. He pushed a finger into her and Chrisjen’s voice trembled and her hips jerked against him. He added a second finger and she groaned raggedly, back arching off the bed.

“Stop,” she gasped suddenly.

Michael pulled back and crawled over her. “I hope you’re not done yet,” he teased.

Chrisjen didn't answer, just grasped him by the shoulders and rolled them over together, straddling his hips. He smiled up at her as his back thudded against the bed. Her hands were splayed against his chest, and she leaned forward a little, licking her lips and rocking against his hips.

He threw his head back, groaning and arching against her as his dick slid against her wetness. He rolled his hips beneath her, trying ineffectually to slide into her. Chrisjen lifted herself up a little, then expertly shifted her angle so that the head of cock pressed against her opening. She moved slowly at first, lowering herself until the bulbous head of his cock pushed into her. Once he was inside her, she moved faster, quickly taking the rest of his length as deep as it would go.

His cursed exclamation was long and drawn out, a groan pulled from him slowly.

She sighed in satisfaction, eyes falling closed, and moved herself slowly against him, sliding him shallower, then deeper, again and again.  

Michael reached up, palming her heavy breasts as they swayed tantalizingly above him. He thumbed her nipples and she hummed appreciatively. He squeezed them between his fingers and she moaned. He tugged on them and she made a strangled noise that was almost a whimper.

She began to move faster, and he felt the hot tension in his abdomen grow tighter. Her breathing was getting faster. “Fucking suck on my tits,” she moaned and grabbed his head, pushing his face into her breasts.

He complied enthusiastically, tongue circling a nipple before sucking it into his mouth. She moaned long and low and sped up again, fucking herself furiously on his body. Words began to tumble out of her mouth between moans and gasps.

_Fuck!_

_Yes!_

_Oh, god!_

_Please!_

It was completely intoxicating.

He began to nibble at her nipple, gently at first, then harder, earning him an “ _oh, god!_ ” He let go of her breast and curled a hand into her hair, pulling her fully against him. Their mouths came together and Michael groaned, wrapping his other hand around her back and rolling them both back over.

When he was on top of her, he settled between her legs and entered her again with a long, slow stroke, and Chrisjen moaned and dug her nails into his shoulders. He did it again, and she let out another long moan and crossed her ankles behind his back.

“Fuck,” she ground out. “ _Harder_.”

“Not yet,” he replied, a little breathlessly. If he did that, he’d be coming in no time, and he wasn’t ready for that just yet. He thrust into her again and curled forward, leaning on his elbows and taking her tits in his hands and squeezing. He brought one of them to his mouth and began to suckle on it as he fucked her, and her moans became more frenzied and she rocked against him frantically.

He knew he was close, and he wanted to bring her with him, so he redoubled his efforts, tugging a dark brown nipple between a thumb and forefinger as he bit down on the other.

That earned him a “There! _Yes!_ ” and then her mouth fell open in a silent scream and her hips stopped. Michael thrust up into her hard and fast and Chrisjen bit her lip and cried out. Her fingers dug into his sides and he fucked her till he was coming too.

After they finally stilled, Michael slowly rolled off of her, chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath.

Chrisjen stared up at the ceiling. “Now I remember why we used to do this,” she quipped.

Michael chuckled and rolled onto his side, curling around her and pressing kisses into the hollow of her throat.

Chrisjen let him hold her as the sky continued to darken and their breathes fell into sync. Michael’s eyes were drooping when she finally made a noise. She didn't speak immediately, just let out a long, resigned sigh.

“There is something I need to do tonight.”

* * *

When she returned from Errinwright’s office, it was late and she was amped up. She felt better than she had in days. Weeks, probably. Maybe months. All the theatrics probably hadn't been necessary, but _fuck_ , it felt good, and after everything, she fucking deserved it. Mao, and Errinwright for that matter, needed to feel the pressure.

 _Fucking assholes. Thinking they can control something like this. They are going to destroy the whole fucking system!_ _Alien_ fucking _life! Those stupid fuckers just think they can play god--_

Chrisjen took a breath and pushed it out of her mind as she walked into her bedroom. Michael was sound asleep in bed, just where she left him. Coming up to the edge of the bed, she smiled down at him affectionately.

He was nothing like her husband. Michael was taller, broader, his hands larger, his jawline aggressively strong. But Michael was always so easy. He knew his role and he didn’t make things difficult.

She ruffled his hair gently. His eyes were closed, and he seemed to be asleep, but then he smiled slowly.  “Hey,” he whispered. Chrisjen’s hand caressed his jaw, fingernails scraping gently against one day’s stubble. “Come back to bed,” he murmured sleepily.

“I will,” she assured him. “I’m not done with you, yet.”

Michael chuckled and rolled onto his back, eyes finally opening. “I’m not ready for another go yet, Chrisjen.”

“Who said anything about you?” she teased.

Five minutes later she was back in bed in her silk robe, reclined against the pillows, and Michael was under the sheets, settled very comfortably between her legs. Chrisjen sighed in pleasure as his tongue teased her flesh tenderly, methodically. It flicked over her clit, then his mouth closed down over her, sucking gently. Chrisjen gave his shoulder an encouraging squeeze.

Pulling out her hand terminal, she checked the latest feeds from Venus. The energy readings continued to spike without change. She sighed.

_Everything was changing._

Under the sheets, Michael pushed a thick finger into her pussy, and she bit down on her lip to keep from moaning.

 _Well, maybe not everything_.


End file.
